


Hysteria

by PidgeonsonSynthesizers



Series: Harlequin [1]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Corrupted Gems, Corrupted Spinel Au, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 18:35:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20856371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PidgeonsonSynthesizers/pseuds/PidgeonsonSynthesizers
Summary: This game isn't fun anymore. Not funny. It never was, and now she is nothing.Then why can't she stop laughing?





	Hysteria

**Author's Note:**

> This just kinda... happened, I suppose. It is very short, but I might keep updating it as a small series of one-shots, though my main fic at the moment takes priority as well as a busy life.
> 
> Enjoy!

She’s nothing. Broken, shrieking, reduced to instincts and baseless anger at her, at Pink, and she never knows why but she just knows.

A forsaken harlequin, jilted by the one it trusted most, left at the mercy of the weeds and vines that swallowed the dying flowers and the figure itself whole.

The slow degradation of the shape of her form, so twisted and disgusting is so very fitting.

Abandoned toy, rotting from the inside out, now tainted with the rage that boiled inside of it until the light came and the tune shattered its very consciousness. 

Like looking through a funhouse mirror. 

The tune of the merry go round still rings inside, a discordant, off-key hum of machinery just as broken as she is. A brief flash of what had to have been a spotlight was too blinding, too strong and the carnival tune is so loud.

It won’t stop playing.

She laughs.

It won’t stop playing.

She laughs, and laughs-

An͝d ̛l̶aughs҉.̴

Things, lifeforms of some sort that live wherever she is come and are loud and join in the terrifying chorus and she laughs, and laughs even as their parts seem to falter and fade because even if she can’t get rid of that main tune she can do something about the parts that join in later.

͡T̨hat͏ ̵s͟cr̢ea̴m͢-

They’re warm and soft and so so satisfying to squish until they crack like party poppers under the pressure and stop sounding li͟ke ̶t͢h͝ąt-

She laughs.

She can feel the tears, viscous and black and she’s still so angry, so angry that it’s crystal clear like a shout over that melody and it becomes all she is, all she ever will be and she laughs so hard that the tears only come harder.

Wh̨͝a̵͞t̨ ̢͞a̸̛͜ ̷͟͟f͢͞uc̕k͜i͏͘n͏҉̵g̡ ͜͝joke̛͟,̶ ͡P͢i͜n̨k̶!̕ ҉͘ 

H͏̳̙͉͈̯̗̝̮̕i̭̱̦̗͕l̺̱̲̦̗͇a̩͎̙̫̫͠r͔͓̯͙̗͈̙̼i̲͡o̦͘͜u̱̪̹̫s̹͙͍͕͕̹!̱͕͈̝̹̰̦͔̗

Sh̴̡e͠’s̶ ş̕o̧ ͏̨tir̡̕ę͠d̨ ̨o̷̕f̕͟ b̨̕͠e̛in̷̨̧g҉̢ ͜͝t̶҉̸h͝ę̴̴ ̢͜j̡o͟k͞e̛͝,͏͞ ̡͢an͡d̨͘ ͜i̷͞͡ś̵n̶̴͜' ̸̧t̸͟ ̸̧t̶̡h̷͏a̡t ͢so͘ ̵f̡͠u̶n͡ny̡͢-̶

Sometimes she can’t even remember why she’s so angry- yet that’s all she is so she holds onto it like a vice, wrapped around it, coiled so tightly within her gut like a string about to snap.

She laughs so hard she feels she could burst at any moment as the hundreds, thousands of years pass in small moments of angry clarity within a sea of broken glass, and she’s so angry at someone who’s never there, who she might never see again.

But then she’s there. Pink is right there in these woods, vulnerable and small and squishy like all the other brief choruses supplied by the strange organic life forms on this miserable place. So soft. So very easy to just grab and s̴qu͝e̸eze-͘

She’s so angry, so angry that she can speak for once in a moment more clearly than she can remember ever doing before after the searing pain begins to tear her apart from the inside.

She looks into Pink’s eyes- and were they always brown?- As the other lifeform screams before everything turns to nothing all at once-

A̸͂̔̊̌҉̫n͎̪͎̭̲͔̾͒̒͛̾̍͋͑͠d̙̼̬̙͎̞̳̿̊ͤ͛ ̵͍̹̬̱̫̬͇̻ͦ̇͌͛̋ͬ͘̕s̭͇̜͈͚̤͔̪̒̇ͯͥͭͯͧͩ̕͟ḩ̠̱͍͎̳̺̇̾ͫͨͤ͒ͣͩ͘͠e͙̦̣͖̜͕̒̑̊ͯͦ ̥͉͙̼͐͂̎ͭͫ̍͟l͙̫̤̗͖̍͞a̻̺̗̤̙̙̍̇̌͠ű̡̱̠̙̙̬̲̣̗͖̓̿̑ͣͧ̐̂g̯̬̠̱̭͎̐ͥh̗̱̿ͮͥͪ́̿ͦͨş͙̺̙̝̺ͨͩ̏̈́̆ͮ̿̋͘.̷̟̯̞̻͖̊͒͊̚͘ͅ


End file.
